


Master and Slave

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-15
Updated: 2006-03-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 00:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12716244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: What happens when Jack gets Daniel home after the auction?





	Master and Slave

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: By popular demand, here is the sequel to my second challenge fic! I don't think it's what you're all hoping for though...  


* * *

The late afternoon sun slants across the driveway as I sit on my front porch, drinking beer in the last of its warmth. Over in the next-door neighbour's yard, there's a dog lying stretched out on the grass and, across the street, a bird flies in lazy circles above an ancient and twisted tree. Everything is quiet and peaceful, both people and animals enjoying some relaxation as evening draws in. The only sounds to break the silence are those made by my favourite archaeologist, who is washing my truck under my watchful eye. 

"Oh, Daniel?" I call out nonchalantly, taking another swig of beer. He stops waxing momentarily, his shoulders hunching in annoyance at my interruption, but he doesn't turn round. I wave my beer bottle in the direction of the passenger side door anyway, and tell him, "You missed a spot!" 

There's a brief pause, during which I wonder whether I've gone too far, then he resumes waxing. I notice that his motions are a little more forceful than before, and I can't resist a smirk at his obvious irritation. By now, he `s probably thinking he would have been better off if he'd ended up in the possession of one of Janet's nurses. Luckily for me, he'll never know, because he's mine - bought and paid for. I am the master and he is the slave, which is why he's washing my truck while I kick back and enjoy the show. 

And what a show it is. Since I didn't let him go back to his place and change out of the suit Carter made him wear for the auction, Daniel is now kitted out in a pair of my old cut-offs and a faded t- shirt I found that shrunk in the wash. The muscles of his back ripple beneath the tight fabric as he rubs the wax into the hood of the truck. Then he leans forwards to reach a tricky spot and the denim cut-offs stretch across his firm ass. I imagine those hands on my bare skin and swallow hard as all the blood in my upper body suddenly heads south. 

I'm so distracted by picturing Daniel testing out his rubbing skills on me in place of the truck that I don't notice he's finished until he clears his throat to get my attention. When I focus on him again, he's standing next to the shining truck, his hands on his hips and an exasperated expression on his face. 

"Good job," I say in approval. "Now, for your next task, I think the lawn could do with mowing." 

"No," he says flatly, and that cute line forms in between his eyebrows as he glares at me. 

"No?" Rebellion in the ranks already? And it's only been a few hours! "I'm the master here," I remind him, attempting to regain control of the situation. "I purchased you fair and square, so you have to do as I say." The stubborn set of Daniel's jaw tells me it isn't going to be that easy. 

"As far as I'm concerned, I've more than paid off the fifteen hundred dollars you forked out for me," he informs me in a tone so reasonable that I'm immediately suspicious. "I think it's my turn to be the master, Jack." 

He begins to stride purposefully towards me, a wicked glint in his eye. 

Uh-oh.


End file.
